


The Price

by suneye



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: (yeah I know I surprised me too), Angst, Canon Compliant, Clace implied, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Luke is still in her life because I refuse to accept an alternative, Memory Loss, Post-Episode: s03e22 All Good Things..., but also some heartwarming aspects/parts, mundane!Clary, super fragmented ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 12:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18850678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suneye/pseuds/suneye
Summary: They all want to take care of her, in their own little ways.





	The Price

**Author's Note:**

> this was really just an excuse for me to type out my headcanons
> 
> warnings for brief mentions of foods/drinks (and drinking) and multiple references to canon character death

She must have been drinking.

That’s the only explanation Clary can come up with for why she’s walking in a daze down an unfamiliar part of town. For why she can’t remember what she was doing right before, why she’s been crying, where she left her jacket. She must have been out with Simon, drank too much, lost sight of him, decided in a moment of intoxicated confidence to walk home alone, and ended up here.

And clearly, drunk Clary is an idiot, because it’s cold out and sober Clary has no fucking idea where she’s going.

She ducks into the first store she sees - a vintage little cafe that’s just about to close up - and asks the irritated-looking barista to use the phone, since drunk Clary has apparently lost  _ that _ , too. The barista begrudgingly agrees and turns the landline over to her.

Clary’s first instinct is to call Simon, check in with him, see if he can give her a ride home. But he doesn’t answer, and she doubts a voicemail would do much good if he’s in a similar state to her, so she hangs up and dials Luke instead. He’s bound to go easier on her over the drinking and the losing-her-phone and the walking-home-alone than her mom is. Besides, she’s starting to recognize some of the streets she’s been walking in as being way closer to the station than her house, so if Luke’s still at work, she’s in luck.

But, of course, he doesn’t answer either. “Luke, I need a ride,” Clary says after the voicemail tone, growing antsy now. “Please, it’s urgent, can you call this number back right away?”

She hangs up and stares at the phone for a few minutes. The barista throws her a dirty look. Clary sighs and picks up the phone again, calling her mom’s number this time.

Her heart is pounding as the phone rings. She’s really not in the mood to be yelled at. But when Jocelyn, too, lets her go to voicemail, Clary realizes she would prefer yelling to the silence she’s faced with now.

A silence which she decides to fill: “Hi, mom,” she starts awkwardly. “So, uh, I’m okay and all, but I can’t find my phone, so if I’ve missed any of your calls…that’s why. It’s been kind of a weird night. And I know you’re gonna yell at me about it later, but honestly I’m a little lost and I can’t really remember how I got here and I probably just need sleep so…do you think the scolding can wait ‘til tomorrow? Anyways, I was just calling to let you know I’m safe and I should be home soon. I think the police station is nearby, so I’m gonna go fetch a ride with Luke or Vargas. So don’t be worried or anything. I’ll see you soon.”

She hangs up. The barista very deliberately flips the sign at the door from “OPEN” to “CLOSED”.

*

Maryse runs her fingers gently through her son’s hair as he clings to her and sobs so violently that she thinks he’s going to fall apart, break beyond repair, right there in her arms.

“It’s alright,” she says, again and again, hoping against all hope that it’s true. “It’s alright, my love, I’m here. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Shakily, he holds up a crumpled piece of paper to her.

*

“Oh, Clary…” Izzy whispers, voice shaking, a feeling somewhere between love and anger and regret making her chest feel tight. “What did you  _ do _ ?”

*

Clary really only starts to feel nervous when she realizes she can’t find any familiar faces at the station. Luke isn’t there. Alaric isn’t there. Captain Vargas isn’t there. There are very few people there that she even vaguely recognizes.

“Are you lost?” a middle-aged woman in uniform asks her when she finds her way to the bench in the cafeteria that she always meets Luke at when he’s supposed to drop her off.

“Uh, no,” Clary says with a polite smile. “I’m waiting for someone.”

She knows she looks a mess and probably more than a little suspicious and out of place, but she also knows that Luke always checks his messages. That he won’t ignore a missed call or a voicemail from her. That, if nothing else, her mom will tell him where Clary said she would be and he’ll come looking for her. And everything is going to be okay.

The officer nods and leaves. A few minutes later, she comes back with a chocolate bar from the vending machine that she wordlessly places in front of Clary. Apart from that, everyone leaves Clary alone.

Until, eventually, she dozes off with her head in her arms on the table in front of her.

*

_ “So much has changed recently. I know it’s a lot to keep track of. That’s okay. I’m here to help you remember. Just look at me and listen to me, okay, Clary? _

_ “Your mother is dead. There was a fire, your apartment burned down, and she…didn’t make it out in time. There was a funeral and you…you were crying too hard to speak. But that’s okay. Because she knew how much you loved her, and everybody knew how great she was and how proud she was of you, so it’s okay. You didn’t have to say anything at all. And Luke was there, right next to you, the whole time. _

_ “And your best friend, Simon, he was there, too. He’s not here anymore, but that’s okay too, because what matters is that he loved you when he  _ was  _ here. He loved you  _ so much _ , Clary. And if you believe in another life after this one, just know that wherever he is, he misses you more than you’ll ever know, and not a day goes by that he doesn’t think of you. _

_ “Hey, please don’t cry, okay? It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. You have a new life now. And you’re gonna be so happy. That’s what your mom and Simon want - for you to be happy. That’s all they ask. And that’s all you should focus on. _

_ “Don’t dwell on the past. You deserve a good life, Clary Fray. Get out there and live it.” _

*

When Clary comes to in her bed in the apartment she’s not quite done moving into yet, she’s crying.

She was dreaming of Simon.

*

“Ew, you  _ shaved _ ?” Clary laughs as she throws her arms around Luke for quick hug when he finally makes it to the theater. She can’t remember ever seeing him without a beard before.

“Well, you moved out,” Luke says. “I wanted to make some changes, too.”

“Hell of a change.”

He looks like he’s about to say something, but stops, shakes his head. “How’s school?” he asks instead.

“Great,” she says as they make their way over to the ticket booth. “I was actually gonna tell you…I got offered a scholarship!”

“That’s amazing, kiddo! What kind of scholarship?”

“Full-ride.” They move forward with the line. “Apparently it’s a new offer from a new anonymous donors. And three months into the year? I am scarily lucky.”

“ _ I’m _ the lucky one,” Luke scoffs. “Don’t forget who was supposed to be paying your tuition, missy. Two tickets for  _ Rogue One _ at 8:30 please.” He says the last part to the box office cashier, who hands them their tickets a moment later and tells them to enjoy the show.

Clary’s not sure she can, because she’s starting to remember how excited Simon had been about this movie when he watched the trailer. “Hey, now that I don’t need the tuition money, let’s go crazy on the movie snacks,” she says to Luke in an attempt to distract herself. “Or did you already blow it all on your new turtleneck collection?”She gestures at his shirt - a grey, long-sleeved turtleneck that doesn’t leave any skin exposed.

Luke’s hand flies up to his neck, almost like he’s just remembered he needs to hide something, but he quickly drops it and gives her an adoring smile.

“Like I said: I wanted to make some changes.”

*

Izzy’s not looking at him, but Luke knows she’s struggling to hold back tears, to keep her hands from shaking as she polishes her sword. She made this one herself when Cleophas said she could keep some of the tools.

“How is she?” Izzy asks, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“She’s good,” Luke says. “She’s happy.”

“And she really doesn’t remember m- she doesn’t remember us?”

Luke feels a sudden surge of guilt at being the only one in a position where he can be the bearer of this awful news in the first place. “No,” he tells her truthfully. “She doesn’t remember anything.”

Izzy nods. She hangs her head, and for a moment her shoulders and bottom lip begin to quiver. But then, through sheer force of will, she shakes herself and straightens up, taking in a deep breath. “It’s better this way,” she says. “It’s… she’s safe. That’s all that matters. That’s…”

“Isabelle,” Luke says softly, taking a step closer to her. She shakes her head, face turned completely away from him, trying to make them both believe that she’s okay - that any of this is okay.

When he touches her shoulder, she crumbles. A strangled noise escapes her and she turns to him, tears running free.

“It’s not  _ fair _ !” she cries, and falls sobbing into his arms.

*

Clary hasn’t been on many dates. By extension, she hasn’t been on many  _ bad  _ dates. But she’s fairly sure being stood up counts as one.

She rests her chin on her hand and pouts, watching other couples and families wine and dine and dance to live music at the restaurant while she sits alone in the corner, checking her phone every 10 seconds and feeling humiliated and sorry for herself. Fuck dating apps. Fuck dating in general. She wasn’t that excited about the date anyway.

The waitress approaches her and Clary braces herself, waiting for the inevitable pitiful “will someone else be joining you, or are you ready to order?” But the waitress just sets a shirley temple and a folded napkin on the table in front of her and smiles.

“Oh, I didn’t order anything yet,” Clary says.

“I know,” the waitress winks. “It’s a gift. For ‘the lady in red’.”

Clary frowns and looks up at the waitress, even more confused than before. “From who?”

“Secret admirer.”

The waitress gestures with her head at a table across the bustling room before walking away. Clary looks in the direction she indicated, but she sees nothing. For a moment she thinks she catches a glimpse of a woman with big curly hair done up and a high-waisted black skirt, but then the woman steps through the exit and Clary loses sight of her. Most likely forever.

_ Some admirer, _ Clary thinks, but she drinks the shirley temple anyway.

*

Clary has her hair in a side braid and a pencil in her hand and she’s talking excitedly to one of her classmates about the piece she’s working on. Apparently she’s not focusing on realistic sketches anymore: her unfinished painting has hues of blue in short, sure brush strokes that probably convey a lot more meaning to her than they do to non-artists. But if Jace looks closely, and stops trying to make sense of it, the darker colours almost remind him of something. The Institute’s halls, the lights at Pandemonium, the water in Lake Lyn.

Clary looks up at him. Her smile widens. Jace's heart stops.

“There you are!” she cries excitedly, hopping off her stool and making her way over to where he’s standing by the door, glamoured, just so he can watch her for a moment. “I can’t believe you kept me waiting this long!”

She walks past him like he was never there, and Jace turns to watch her pull a stranger into a hug.

**Author's Note:**

> ok so just to clarify Simon encanto'd her and that scholarship was Magnus' doing (and I like to think so was the apartment). also as much as I dislike the concept of Shadowhunter!Luke I wanted to keep this piece as close to canon as possible. also Clary leaving that message for her mom was based on [these tweets by neenwolf](https://twitter.com/neenwolf/status/1127572785763684353) that made me cry and which I did not do justice here


End file.
